definitely.” His hand tightened over the arm of the throne. His eyes opened, flickering onyx.
Nadya lifted her gaze in time to watch as all the Vultures—the ones who had defected from Malachiasz—toppled. She hissed out a breath, pressed her forehead against the side of his head. “What have you done?”
“There was no way to stop this,” he rasped. “It was set into motion a long time ago. It was always going to happen.”
“And you returned to see your great victory through,” she said through clenched teeth. “Bring the cleric—she’ll be useful—she can watch her kingdom fall.”
A flicker of pain crossed his face. “Are we so different, Nadya?” He lifted his hand, fingers tipped with long claws, and pressed his thumb against her lips. “We both long for freedom. For power. For a choice. We both want to see our kingdoms survive.”
A few of the Vultures struggled to their feet. Parijahan slid out of the shadows to deal with them herself. Serefin couldn’t hold off his father much longer.
“We both know we’re the only ones who can save our kingdoms,” he continued, voice soft.
Her blade slipped in her shaking hand, cutting a shallow line on his throat. Crimson trickled down the pale of his skin. He stilled, icy eyes never breaking from hers.
Nadya had been so terribly na?ve. She had listened to her heart as it whispered that the boy with the charming smile and gentle hands didn’t mean any harm; he was dangerous, he was thrilling, but he meant well. Lies, lies, lies.
They had all had their eyes on the king of Tranavia; she wondered if they should have been watching Malachiasz the whole time.
“You’ll help me stop this,” she said.
He was silent a beat too long.
“I will destroy your carefully laid plans to accomplish my own.”
“No,” he finally said. “They align, you see.”
It didn’t make sense and she didn’t understand. Her heart but shredded bits of flesh, pounding between her ribs. He but a monster, darkness in the shape of a boy. She was numb.
She lifted her blade from his throat, reaching down and sliding her hand over his wrist. She pulled his hand up, dragging her blade into the same spiral she had cut into her own. He hissed as she pressed the pendant over the cut, closing his hand around it, interlacing her fingers with his.
“I could do a lot with blood like yours,” she whispered, her mouth at the shell of his ear. “And I want you to know that some gods require blood.”
His eyes flickered from onyx to pale, his chin tilting down as a smile pulled at his lips. “Complicit in heresy, indeed.”
She felt his power collide with hers, nightmarish and black. Aching and roiling like a poison and seeping inside her. She let it in, let it mix with her own well of light and divinity.
“Now you’ve tasted real power, towy d?imyka,” Malachiasz murmured, “what will you do with it?” He laughed softly and slipped the pendant back over her head, trailing his bloody fingertips down her cheek. “What will you do with freedom?”
She stared at him, at this broken boy who was a horror and a liar and had started this disaster. His power was intoxicating. She moved her face closer, her lips achingly near his. Her numb na?ve heart screamed at her to forgive him again, one more chance, but he didn’t deserve more chances.
“I’m going to save this world from monsters like you.”
“Then here’s your chance.”
She pressed her lips to his temple and pulled away. Serefin was on his knees, hunched over in pain, blood oozing from his head, one hand white-knuckled on the ground holding him up. Dead moths littered the floor around him. The stars around his head began to flicker out.
Nadya punched another hole in the veil. She didn’t break it completely, not yet, just enough to feel Marzenya’s presence. Her rage, her ice, her anger. It was enough for Nadya to take the two halves of power she had within her—her own and that of a monster—and form them into something she could use. For a blinding, terrible moment holy speech flooded Nadya’s senses. She saw only light; she heard only the chimes of divinity; copper filled her mouth.
Izak Meleski turned toward her and Nadya was hit by a crushing, agonizing weight. The man’s power could send horrors into Nadya’s mind, but she had seen horrors. There was little left to frighten her.
She pulled her voryen up to use as a channel for her power, pushing